


Cat Person

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Category: Glee
Genre: Best Friends, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Fuckurt Advent, Fuckurt Advent Boxing Day Jamboree, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2858156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puck definitely sounds like he's hitting on Finn.</p><p>[for Fuckurt Advent Boxing Day Jamboree 2014]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat Person

“What happens at lunch, stays at lunch,” Puck says. He raises one eyebrow and grins, almost smirking, as he takes a piece of Finn’s roll off his tray. 

“Hey! I’m eating that!” Finn says. 

“You want it back?” Puck asks, then puts the piece of roll half in his mouth, half of it sticking out. 

“Gah, gross, dude!” Finn mimes gagging. “You can keep it now.”

Puck’s eyebrows go up and down twice. “Yeah, you know you want it.” He looks surprised for a brief moment, but then grins again. 

“Yeah, a big mouthful of chewed up bread and your slobber. Totally want it,” Finn says. 

“It’s _my_ slobber, of course you do,” Puck says, and now he’s definitely using his hitting on girls voice. 

“See, now I’m not even hungry anymore,” Finn says. He pulls another piece off his roll and tosses it at Puck. 

“Throwing food at me!” Puck’s grin gets bigger. “Is that supposed to make me leave you alone, or get closer?” 

Finn tosses another piece at Puck as he grins back at him. “It’s like throwing bread at ducks at the lake so they’ll stop bothering you,” he says. He tears off another bit of his roll and throws, aiming at Puck’s forehead this time. 

“Quack, quack,” Puck says. “Maybe I’ll go for your mystery meatloaf next?” He doesn’t really look like he’s talking about the mystery meatloaf, though. 

“Hey, if your day’s only gonna be complete when I bounce meatloaf off your head, go for it,” Finn says. He cuts the corner off his meatloaf and stabs it with his fork, then pulls the fork back like a catapult. 

“Oh, I bet you could help complete my day.” 

Finn pull the fork back a little farther, then fake-lets-go. Instead of actually flinging the meatloaf bite, though, he sticks it in his mouth. “Ugh. This is so gross,” he says. “Should’ve just chucked it at you.”

“Some people like meat more than others,” Puck says with a small shrug, still watching Finn. 

“I’m not sure that counts as meat,” Finn says. 

“I’m willing to find out,” Puck says, sounding even more like he’s hitting on a girl. 

“It’s all yours then,” Finn says, pushing his tray over to Puck and holding out the fork for him to take. “Have all the maybe-meat you can eat.”

“I—” Puck starts to say, then closes his mouth and looks disappointed as the bell rings. 

“See you at practice,” Finn says as he stands up, pushing in his chair. 

“Yeah, practice,” Puck says, looking and sounding distracted as he sits there. 

Finn stands by his chair for a couple of seconds, waiting, but when Puck doesn’t say anything else, Finn goes ahead and leaves, dumping his trash in the can on the way out of the cafeteria. It was kind of weird, but sometimes Puck is just kind of weird. 

He doesn’t think about it again until two days later. When it ends up just the two of them at lunch again, Puck comes up too close behind Finn just before Finn sits down. 

“What’re we eating today?” Puck says, using his hitting on girls voice. 

“Uh.” Finn looks down at his tray. “Fish sticks. I think.”

“Too bad, I like tuna casserole better if it has to be seafood,” Puck says. He sets his tray down next to Finn’s, instead of across from Finn, and when he sits down, his leg bumps against Finn’s. Finn gives Puck a quick smile. 

“So no stealing my lunch today?” Finn asks. 

“I did _not_ say that,” Puck says with a wide smile, bumping Finn’s leg again and inching a little closer overall. “You’ve also got glazed carrots.” 

“Yeah, it’s a stick theme today, I guess,” Finn says. “No stick dessert, though.”

“A _stick_ theme?” Puck raises his eyebrows. “I bet I could think of some ‘dessert’ that stays with the theme.” 

“They were out of popsicles,” Finn says. 

“I can still manage,” Puck insists, sounding even more like he’s hitting on a girl. “Stick theme.” 

Finn shakes his head. “Did you hit your head or something? You’re acting weird.”

“I’m great.” Puck reaches out and grabs one of Finn’s carrots, sticking it halfway into his mouth. 

“You could buy your own lunch, you know,” Finn points out. 

“But that would definitely not be as much fun for me, and you wouldn’t have as much fun either,” Puck says, sliding the carrot out of his mouth while he talks, then popping it back in and starting to chew. 

“Yeah, I think maybe you hit your head. You’re not making any sense,” Finn says. He picks up one of the fish sticks and pokes it into a glob of ketchup before eating it. It tastes like slightly fishy ketchup, or very ketchupy fish. “On second thought, you can have all the fish, if you want.”

“I’m making perfect sense.” Puck shifts, and he might be moving closer to Finn again, but his leg is definitely closer. “You want me to take your stick, is that what you’re saying?” 

“My _fish_ stick, sure,” Finn says. “You’re a little hung up on sticks today, dude.”

Puck sighs. “Where’s your sense of fun? Adventure?” 

“I’m not adventurous enough to eat any more of this fish.” 

Now Puck looks like he’s hitting on a girl, not just sounding like it. “I wasn’t talking about the fish.” 

“Oh yeah?” Finn asks, playing along, since he figures this either has to be some kind of performance or a really long joke. “What do I have to eat for it to be an adventure?”

“You’d have to come with me out of the cafeteria to find out,” Puck says, grinning so widely he’s almost laughing, which makes Finn start laughing.

“I don’t know. If it would get me away from the fish sticks…” Finn shrugs. 

“Oh yeah? You want to check out that stick dessert after all?” Puck says. He leans in, pressing against Finn’s side. “Maybe the locker room…”

“I don’t think hockey counts as a dessert,” Finn teases. 

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it these days? I guess more than one stick involved, that might make sense,” Puck says, still grinning. 

“We’d probably get in trouble for messing with the hockey equipment.”

“I promise you wouldn’t get in trouble if it were _my_ … hockey equipment.” 

Finn laughs again, harder this time. “Yeah, I think I’d probably get in trouble for that.”

“Not with _me_ anyway.” Puck frowns suddenly. “Maybe not the locker room. Coach Beiste might not like it. Janitor’s closet? Empty classroom?”

“Oh. Uh, I—” The bell rings, interrupting Finn, which is probably good, since he’s really not sure what he was going to say in response to that. 

Puck sighs and looks disappointed. “Another time.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says, feeling confused more than anything else. “Sounds, uh. Good.”

“Later,” Puck says as he stands up, looking back over his shoulder once at Finn as he leaves the cafeteria.

 

The first comment hadn’t been a mistake, but it hadn’t been something Puck’d planned, either. Once he had the tone and the words and the look down, though, he’d known it’d make things really awkward if he dropped it suddenly, so he hadn’t. 

Over the two days between the first time and the second time, though, Puck had had time to think about it, and he’d decided it wasn’t the worst idea in the world, not by a long shot. He and Finn are both single, they’re both pretty hot, and those magazines his mom likes always say that ‘friends to lovers’ is the best way to go. Since Puck wouldn’t really call any girls ‘friends’, the only way to even try that out is definitely with a guy, and if ‘friends to lovers’ is good, that probably means ‘best friends to lovers’ is even better. 

Which is why he figures out on Thursday where everyone’s been during lunch—some kind of SAT review thing that Puck’s mom and Carole didn’t sign them up for—and how often it is, and since everyone’ll be gone during lunch again on Friday, Puck spends way too long Thursday night trying to figure out if dudes, and specifically Finn, are as attracted to muscles as girls. Puck vaguely remembers Kurt carrying around muscle mags once, so that’s a vote for ‘probably’. 

So Puck walks into lunch on Friday with a t-shirt on that shows off his guns, mohawk freshly trimmed, and he catches up with Finn just before he sits down, just like on Wednesday. Puck presses a little too close and takes an exaggerated sniff. 

“What’re we having today?” 

“Chicken sandwich, french fries, carrot cake,” Finn says. “Here.” He holds a fry out in Puck’s direction. 

“Back to the stick theme?” Puck asks, leaning forward and biting down on the fry. 

“Nope. It’s just what they had,” Finn says. 

“Too bad, I thought it was deliberate,” Puck says. He sits down sideways, facing Finn, and opens his mouth expectantly for the rest of the fry. Finn shoves the rest of the fry into Puck’s mouth.

“I knew you liked fries.”

“All this just to get a chance to inspect my hockey equipment? I’m flattered,” Puck says. 

“You know me. I’m a big hockey fan,” Finn says, holding out another fry.

“See, we’ve been friends how many years?” Puck asks, grabbing at the fry with his mouth again. “And I can still learn something new about you. Like your stick preference.” 

“Yeah, I guess we’ve both still got plenty of new stuff to learn about each other.”

Puck grins and scoots a little closer to Finn. “Yeah? You want to learn my stick preference?” 

“I already know you like sticks,” Finn says. “Fish sticks. Carrot sticks.”

“Not the only kind of sticks I like.” Puck raises his eyebrows and smirks a little. “What is it you wanted to know, then?” 

“Is this a thing you do now?” Finn asks. 

“Is what a thing I do now? Eat your fries?” 

“Yeah. Eat my fries.”

“Well, each one is one of your sticks, isn’t it?” Puck smirks a little wider. “I guess it is.” 

“So you just like _my_ sticks?” Finn asks.

“Hmm.” Puck stalls for a moment and looks Finn up and down, because maybe it is just Finn, or at least mostly Finn, and maybe just Finn at present, anyway, whatever it might have been before. “Maybe so,” he finally says, going for his best flirty tone. 

“Am I gonna have any fries left at all when you get done with them?”

“Did you want me to move on to a different stick of yours instead?” Puck asks. 

Finn's face gets a little pink. "Is that what you want?" he asks.

Puck pauses for just a moment to collect his thoughts, and then he leans close to Finn’s ear. “You could come with me and I could show you what I want.” 

Face face gets pinker. “You can’t, uh. Just tell me?”

“Do you really want me to tell you _right here_?” Puck asks. “That could get a little awkward if you changed your mind about me showing you.” 

“Puck,” Finn says, turning a dark sort of blotchy red. 

“Is that a ‘yes, please go ahead, tell me in detail right now’ or a ‘no, no, of course you’re right, Puck, hands-on learning is better’?” Puck asks, smirking at Finn. 

Finn doesn’t say anything. Instead, he slides his tray to the side and puts his arms on the table, then he drops his head onto his arms so his face is hidden. 

“A vote for hands-on learning, then,” Puck says, still grinning even though Finn can’t see him. “We’ll have to take a rain-check, since we’re sitting in the middle of a crowded cafeteria.” After Finn still doesn’t say anything, Puck realizes he’s acting like a cat, like if he just doesn’t look at Puck, Puck won’t see him. “Okay, kitty,” Puck says finally as he starts to stand up. “Later.” 

Puck decides on Friday night that the obvious solution is hanging out with Finn somewhere when no one else is around, and that probably means over the weekend at Finn’s house. The only problem is figuring out when Finn’ll be the only one home, which means that Puck spends more time than he wants to admit on Saturday morning stalking Facebook and foursquare to figure out where the girls are and if Kurt’s joining them. Finally he sees something about Kurt being at the mall, so he puts on his boots and walks over to Finn’s house. 

Carole might be home, but Puck knows Burt works most Saturdays, and Carole’s left Finn alone when Puck is over since they were eleven or twelve, for the most part, so it doesn’t really matter whether she’s home or not except for sometimes she cooks snacks. Puck bangs the slush off his boots as he climbs the stairs, then rings the doorbell. 

Finn opens the door, looking confused. “Hey. Did I forget you were coming over?”

“Nah, I just figured you were probably as bored as I was,” Puck says. 

“Yeah, kinda. No girlfriend right now,” Finn says. 

“And I figured we could watch a movie or play some Mario or something.” 

“Sure. That’s cool,” Finn says. “Want me to order a pizza or something?”

“Yeah, that sounds awesome,” Puck says, stepping into the house. “Supreme?”

“Duh.”

“I had to make sure you weren’t a pod person, like on those old sci-fi shows.”

“Why would I be a pod person?” Finn asks. “I’m not the one who’s been acting so weird.”

“Weird?” Puck says as he follows Finn upstairs and to his room. “You think I’ve been acting weird?” 

Finn shrugs. “A little. I don’t know. Maybe weird isn’t the right word. Different, maybe.”

“Different’s supposed to be good, right?” Puck flops down on Finn’s bed and raises his eyebrows, grinning at Finn. “So what should we do first?”

“I guess we could play Mario, then watch something while we eat the pizza,” Finn says. “So our hands are free.”

“Nothing else you want to do?” Puck asks, holding one hand out for the controller anyway. 

Finn almost drops the controller handing it to Puck. “We, uh, could play a different game, if you want.”

“You know Mario’s my favorite _video_ game,” Puck says, grinning up at Finn. “There’s probably some other kinds of games that’d be fun.” 

“We’ve got Yahtzee.” 

Puck makes a face. “What do you win if you get a Yahtzee?”

“Uh. Maybe we’ll just stick with Mario right now,” Finn says, turning red. 

“Back to the stick theme,” Puck says triumphantly as Mario starts up. “Great idea.” Finn doesn’t say anything else, which could mean he wants to be a cat again, but as they play, Puck slowly scoots closer. They play for a little while before Finn orders the pizza, and Puck keeps moving towards Finn. He gets to where he’s right next to Finn and could press their legs together or put his head on Finn’s shoulder, and he’s trying to decide which is better when the doorbell rings, and Puck groans. 

“That’s probably the pizza,” Finn says, pausing Mario. 

“Yeah.” Puck puts down his controller, shaking his head a little. “We can grab some pop and bring it back up with us, too.” 

“Yeah, cool,” Finn says. “You know what movie you want to watch? I think there’s some new stuff on Netflix.”

“You think they have the Wolverine movie on there now?” Puck asks. It’s not the scariest movie or the sexiest, but maybe he manage to scoot closer again. 

“Maybe.”

“Or we could find a horror movie,” Puck says as they head down the stairs. 

“To eat pizza during?” Finn asks. “Maybe something with no guts.”

“We could go with a classic, like _Indiana Jones_ or something?” 

“Yeah, I’m always up for Indy,” Finn says. 

“Cool.” Puck goes into the kitchen to grab the pop and two cups while Finn gets the pizza, and Puck grabs a roll of paper towels while he’s in there. Once they’re back upstairs, Puck waits for Finn to sit down before plopping down beside him. “Got us paper towels in case we get messy.”

“Good. I’ll get the movie set up, then.” Finn turns off Mario and puts on _Raiders of the Lost Ark_. 

“Awesome.” For the next ten or fifteen minutes, they eat the pizza and watch the movie, and each time Puck reaches for another piece of pizza, he moves a little closer to Finn. By the time he eats as much as he wants, he’s only an inch or two from Finn, and once he wipes his hand on the paper towels, he moves his leg so it’s pressing against Finn’s. 

“Did you want some more pop?” Finn asks suddenly.

“No, I’m good.”

“You want some ice cream or something?”

“Maybe later.” Puck takes a deep breath, trying to sound like he’s relaxing, and leaves his leg where it is, and he hopes Finn doesn’t freak out or bolt. He might cat again, but at least Puck knows that might happen. 

“Okay. Cool.” Finn watches the movie, pretty much staring at it, and Puck starts to laugh when he looks over at him a few times, because it’s almost like he’s being a cat, but not quite. 

When the movie gets near the end, Puck lets the rest of his body move closer to Finn, too, and he does drop his head onto Finn’s shoulder. Finn’s body tenses, then he goes really still.

“Did you fall asleep?” Finn whispers. 

“No. I’m still watching,” Puck says quietly, leaving his head where it is. 

“Oh. Okay.”

Finn doesn’t seem to be totally freaking out, and he’s definitely not bolting, but Puck decides not to do anything until the credits are about to roll. Finn could use the movie being over as an excuse to move, so Puck puts his hand on Finn’s leg. Finn’s thigh muscle jumps, but he doesn’t otherwise move. 

“Watch the trilogy?” Puck asks. 

“Sure,” Finn says, his voice sounding kind of strained. 

“This is better than being bored, right?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. 

“Better than Mario?” Puck asks in his best flirting voice. 

“These are my favorite movies.”

Puck frowns to himself. “I know that,” he finally says, probably sounding a little annoyed. 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I know you know.”

Puck feels a little like snapping or pulling away, but considering he’s spent the entire afternoon hoping Finn _won’t_ pull away, that seems pretty self-defeating. He sighs instead, otherwise holding perfectly still. “Yeah. Now that we’ve established that again.” 

“Are you, uh.” 

“Am I what?”

Finn moves his leg, bumping it lightly against Puck’s. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah,” Puck says, and he does relax a little, because he’d wondered if Finn was going to ask about him being weird again. 

“Cool,” Finn says. “So did you want to, uh.”

“Yes,” Puck blurts, then realizes he doesn’t _actually_ know what Finn’s asking. 

“Cool. I’ll tell Mom when the movie’s over.”

That probably means it’s either dinner or spending the night, and since Finn doesn’t usually make a big deal about telling Carole if Puck’s eating dinner with them, that probably makes it spending the night, which means Puck answered correctly. “Cool,” he says, smiling to himself again. “House to ourselves?” 

“Yeah. Date night.”

Puck manages not to laugh, even though ‘date night’ could apply to the two of them—could apply to them if Finn were thinking the same thing, anyway. “Now I’m thinking about those weird videos we watched in middle school science. Remember?” 

“With the birds?” Finn asks. “The ones who build the things?”

“Yeah, trying to impress the other birds and get a mate.” 

“With the blue stuff all lined up,” Finn says, laughing. “Yeah, I think the same thing!”

“What’s the human equivalent, you think?” 

“I don’t know. For Mom and Burt, I think it’s got something to do with those movies with the people making out in the rain on the poster,” Finn says. 

“I never got those. Wouldn’t it be nicer if one of them was holding an umbrella or something for the other one?” Puck shakes his head, carefully not really removing it from Finn’s shoulder. “I don’t know that I’d be that impressed with stuff. Blue or not.” 

“Yeah, me neither. Maybe something shinier.”

“Oh, I was going to settle for not yelling,” Puck admits. “That’s a big selling point right there.” 

“Yeah, yelling isn’t really good for, you know. Bird mates,” Finn says. 

“Or human ones,” Puck says softly, feeling like things suddenly got more serious than he’d intended. 

“They shouldn’t yell at you,” Finn says. “Or me.”

“Yeah. I mean… people fight. But there shouldn’t be a lot of yelling.” 

Finn shakes his head. “People shouldn’t yell at you if they like you.”

“They should listen. Not nod and pretend.” 

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. 

“Sorry, I’m being a downer,” Puck says, squeezing Finn’s leg gently. Finn bumps his leg against Puck’s in response.

“Nah. It’s good to talk about this stuff,” Finn says. 

“Maybe a lottery ticket,” Puck says. “That’d be a nice ‘blue thing’, you know?” 

“If we win the lotto, we could get out of here, you know?” Finn says. “Out of Lima, I mean.”

“Yeah. Exactly,” Puck says, squeezing Finn’s leg again. Finn’s quiet again, and Puck keeps his hand and head on Finn, practically pressed against Finn’s side. There’s no talking, but Puck decides maybe that’s okay, too, at least for the time being. The entire first half of _Temple of Doom_ passes before Finn says anything else, but it’s not uncomfortable. 

“Is this what it feels like it is?” Finn finally asks, obviously making a point of not looking directly at Puck when he asks it. 

Puck doesn’t blurt out ‘yes’ this time, but he does nod his head slowly. “Yeah. I hope so, anyway.” 

“I didn’t want to be making it up in my head,” Finn says. 

“You’re not.” 

“’Cause you were acting weird, but I didn’t want to be, I don’t know.” Finn bumps Puck’s leg again. “I didn’t want to be reading the wrong thing.”

“Not that weird,” Puck insists, but it seems like a good time to move his head off Finn’s shoulder and look at Finn, and once he’s looking at Finn, it seems like a good idea to kiss Finn, so that’s what he does, his hand still on Finn’s thigh and the rest of his body half-falling on Finn’s as he brings their mouths together, tensing a little in case he’s the one reading things all wrong. 

Finn doesn’t pull away, though. He leans into the kiss like he’s been waiting for it. Puck’s free hand lands on Finn’s shoulder, and he moves it to Finn’s face, holding them both there as they kiss. He lets his mouth fall open before running his tongue lightly along Finn’s bottom lip, wondering what Finn will do. Finn’s lips part, his tongue touching Puck’s just barely.

Puck kisses a little harder, deciding it doesn’t really matter if he ends up mostly on top of Finn, and his tongue runs across Finn’s upper lip before slowly pushing into Finn’s mouth. Finn opens his mouth wider. After another few seconds, Finn’s hand cups the back of Puck’s head, holding him in place. Puck isn’t totally sure what he had expected, but he knows whatever it’d been, what they’re doing is definitely greater than his expectations. 

He almost loses his balance, and he kisses Finn more slowly as he shifts his weight until he’s straddling Finn. Finn leaves the one hand on the back of Puck’s head, but his other hand moves to Puck’s hip. Puck opens his mouth even wider, and he slides the hand on Finn’s face back into Finn’s hair, just behind his ear, tugging just enough to slightly change the angle that their lips are meeting at. 

Puck keeps kissing Finn as long as he dares, and then he leans his forehead on Finn’s. “Okay, kitty?” 

“Yeah. Kinda weird, but kinda not weird,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, your hair’s shorter than most people I kiss,” Puck says, shrugging a little. “Sometimes kinda weird’s a good thing.” 

“Can we maybe keep watching the movie for a little while?” Finn asks. 

“Yeah. We’ve got time, right?” Puck says, and he settles back beside Finn, his hand on Finn’s leg, but he keeps his head up. Finn isn’t talkative, but by the end of the movie, they’re definitely leaning on each other. 

Puck squeezes Finn’s leg and looks at him briefly before facing the credits again, and he goes over in his head more than one thing he could say. He can’t settle on exactly what he’s even trying to say, which makes it hard to decide _what_ to say. 

“Finish the trilogy now or later?” he says at last. 

“We could finish it now,” Finn says. “Or we can watch it later, when people are home.”

“Privacy would be a good thing?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. 

“Later sounds good to me, then,” Puck says, turning towards Finn and starting to grin. 

“Cool,” Finn says, leaning in towards Puck. Puck puts his hand on Finn’s face again, eyes still open as he keeps grinning at Finn up until the moment that their lips connect. While they’re kissing, Puck’s mind flashes back to those articles about ‘friends to lovers’, and he realizes suddenly that he probably should have read at least one of them. 

Because he’s kissing Finn, and it’s great, and he’s always loved Finn in the best friend way that they stopped saying out loud by age ten. Sometimes when people are kissing, though, they start hating each other by the time they break up, and _that_ would be the worst thing, if Puck and Finn started truly hating each other. 

Puck kisses Finn a little harder with that thought, like he can somehow kiss Finn hard enough that he won’t have to worry about it, and when he pulls back, he puts his hand in Finn’s hair, almost petting him. “Kitty,” he says softly. 

“I’m not a kitty,” Finn says. 

"You are a little bit a kitty, to me," Puck says.

“I’m not!” Finn insists. “I don’t meow or purr or scratch.”

"You kinda purr. You like being petted. You freeze up and try to hide like a cat. And I bet you could scratch." Puck grins at the last part. "Only if both of us thought it was a good idea."

Finn’s face reddens. “I don’t hide like a cat.”

"Yeah, you do, but it's, you know."

“It’s what?”

"Good," Puck says quickly. "It's good." That's not quite what came to mind, but Finn'll probably understand that. Finn gives him a happy half-smile, and Puck kisses him again. 

Puck doesn’t stop kissing Finn, and he ends up straddling Finn again. His hand keeps moving in Finn’s hair, and after a long time, he stops to catch his breath. 

“I’m not going to just roll out of bed and leave in the morning.” 

Finn’s eyebrows knit together and his head tips slightly to the side. “I never figured you would.”

“Still thought I should say it, right?” Puck says, still petting Finn’s head, and Finn leans into it in a way that really makes Puck think of a cat. 

“Yeah. Thanks for saying it,” Finn says. 

“Are _you_?” Puck says jokingly. 

“Hey! I’m not the one who does that kind of stuff!”

Puck grins and kisses Finn. “Yeah, I know.” He slips back onto the bed and lies back, tugging on Finn with one arm, and he starts rubbing the back of that hand along Finn’s arm. “Different is good?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Different is good, with you, anyway.”

“Only way either of us has to worry about it.” Puck’s hands continue petting and rubbing at Finn, and Puck watches Finn’s face, occasionally kissing him. “You know what?” Puck says quietly. 

“What?”

Puck smiles, trying not to laugh at all. “I didn’t realize before how much I wanted a cat.”


End file.
